


Lady of the Lake

by Reiya_Wakayama



Series: Remix of the Legend [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slash, A/M, What if the real Lady of the Lake never existed? What if it was someone else who gave Arthur the sword?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady of the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small AU, based around the legend of Excalibur, Prince/King Arthur's mighty sword. I got this idea randomly out of the blue and it made me wonder who exactly the lady of the lake will be in this series. I believe in the original legend, she was Lancelot’s mother, but I may be wrong about that. I like how this came out. Since in the story, it was the Lady of the Lake who gave him the sword, or one of the stories anyways, and in this series it was Merlin who had it made for Arthur, I thought why not make him do both parts…with some added smut for those who partake in this particular pairing.

Arthur walked down to the edge of the lake, his armor gleaming in the pale sun that was able to shine through the dense fog that surrounded everything, wrapping it in dense white that seemed to block sound. It was so quiet, not even the birds were chirping, though it was spring.

Sighing, he let his horse drink, his mind elsewhere as he stared across the flat surface, or what he could see through the fog. Rubbing absently at an old battle wound on his shoulder, the prince sat down on the wet ground, not caring that his cap, already damp, was getting mud on it.

He’d been staring out across the lake for a while before he heard an odd sound. He thought it might have been some sort of fish or water creature, but it was too regular. It sounded like something was wading through the water, and as if in confirmation, little ripples run aground at his feet. Something was in the water and coming towards him.

Standing swiftly, he went to grab his sword which was tied to his saddle and found nothing. The horse had wondered off, its steps muffled in the near deafening silence. Swearing softly, he took a fighting stance, pulling the small knife he kept hidden in his boot out. Even with that small weapon, he still felt necked without his sword.

He squinted at the fog, asking the wind silently to clear it so that he could see. This vast sea of white was distorting and was making him see things that weren’t there…, or where they? He couldn’t tell for sure. The splashing was getting nearer, the ripples bigger.

The breeze, as if sensing his worry at last, stirred, blowing through the fog softly, clearing it degree by degree, letting visibility emerge. Everything was still shadowed in white, but…there off to the left. He could just make out something silhouetted against the white, just a slightly darker patch of white, but it was moving, and towards him.

The wind picked up and the fog was blown away. The figure, a person, he could make that much out at least, was tall, and thin.

The fog was nearly gone by the time the man, for he could tell that now, stood in front of him. He was tall and thin, but that wasn’t all. He was pale, almost as white as the fog that had been there moments ago. His hair, an ink black that contrasted with his skin, was in disarray as if the wind had run a lover’s fingers through it. His eyes were shocking the most; they were a deep sapphire blue with flecks of gold peeking out.

The robes that adorned his shoulders were thin, hugging his frame like fluid clothe. They were differing shades of blue, each shade fading into the next. The colors seemed to ripple and shift, giving the illusion of water. His pale feet were bare, the white toes sinking into the dark mud under the water.

That was the oddest part though. He was in the water, and it definitely got deeper the further out you went, and yet he remained dry, except for the part still in the water. It was like the water wouldn’t touch him unless he touched it.

These were the large details, seen at first glance. On second glance more stood out. How his cheek bones were sharp, a small dimple appearing just below one, even though he wasn’t smiling. How his ears were slightly larger than would be normal. The way his eyes seemed to smile, laugh, and chide at him for losing his sword, all in one glance.

This second glance revealed everything: one, was that he was beautiful, and two, that it was love at first sight. This pale wisp of a man had captured the heart of a prince, and hadn’t even said a word.

Finally, he had to ask. “Who are you?” His voice seemed to carry far in the near silence, the only sound the wind that still blew.

Then he smiled, his face lighting. “I am Merlin Emrys, the dweller of this lake and you are Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince and future ruler of this land.” The way he said his name sent a shiver down his spine. He sounded as if he meant the future ruler of more than just Camelot, but he ignored it, taking a step closer.

“Merlin.” He tasted the name on his tongue, letting it slip intimately over his lips to caress the air between them. “Why have you shown yourself to me? You know my father would have you killed if he knew you were here.”

He shook his head. “He would not be able to kill something as old as me who am akin to the great dragons and hold persuasion over them. Besides, I care not for Uther and his rule of death and slaughter. I came to you bearing a gift. Do you wish to accept it?” He crocked his head to the side, looking for a moment like a lost puppy than a being of immense power.

“Will it cause harm to my people or family?” He asked. The Dragon’s kin shook his head, and Arthur believed him. “Then I will accept it.”

Merlin, nodding gravely, turned slightly before bending down. His hand seemed to stop for a moment, as if a barrier was there and not a swirling liquid. Finally, he was able to move his hand, but when it entered the water Arthur couldn’t see it under the water.

He didn’t have time to look for long, for the arm was emerging, drawing something heavy from the look on his face. He stood with a grunt and held it aloft, the surface shining golden in the pale morning light.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. The blade looked perfect. The grip was the exact length he looked for in a blade, and he was sure the balance would be perfect and the edges razor sharp. Light seemed to gather at its tip, moving down and changing the blade subtly. Now it held an inscription in a language he did not know.

Merlin took a step forward, his feet only centimeters from the edge of the lake. He held the sword out to Arthur, balanced on both hands. Arthur reached out reverently, almost afraid to touch it in case he dirtied it. “This blade was forged for you. The steel is from a fallen star and it was tempered by the breath of one of my kin. It will slay anything, alive or dead. It is yours and only yours. In the hands of someone else, it could cause great harm. Its name is Excalibur.”

Arthur nodded; face solemn as he lifted the weapon from his hands. It was perfect, an extension of his arm. He could feel power thumbing through it, making his arm tingle slightly. Smiling, he turned and set it on some dry grass near his feet.

Turning back around, he smiled at Merlin. Merlin just stared back, face unsure of what to do next. Finally, Arthur decided what he could do. Taking a step forward, he bridged the gap, hand shooting out to entangle in sooty locks as he tugged. The paler man stumbled forward, his feet finally leaving the water. Wrapping his arms around him, Arthur drew him in until he could claim him, lips brushing over his once, twice, trice before pulling back.

Merlin’s eyes had gone huge, pupils blown as he stared up at Arthur, pale skin flushed. Smiling again, he leaned down and captured his lips again, claiming more and more, the brunette’s fist clinging to his tunic to stay anchored in this world.

Pulling back slightly out of breath, he asked Merlin softly, “Will you come with me?” Where that came from, he didn’t know, but it felt right. This man was needed, by his future subjects and by himself.

Merlin seemed to know it too. He nodded, a smile brightening his face. “Yes, I will come with you, Arthur Pendragon. Our destinies are intertwined, two sides of the same coin. I would love to come with you.” Arthur just nodded, pulling the man the rest of the way out of the water and bent down to grab Excalibur from the ground, not even a smudge of dirt or a blade of grass marring it surface. Time to face his destiny.

End.


End file.
